


Second Chances

by GlowingArrowsInTheSky



Series: But the Earth Refused to Die [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grouptale (Undertale), Apologies, Bullying, Friendship, Gen, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingArrowsInTheSky/pseuds/GlowingArrowsInTheSky
Summary: After returning to the surface, Twain encounters a figure from his past that brings back painful memories. Can even the worst person change? Can everybody be a good person, if they just try? I guess we'll find out.
Series: But the Earth Refused to Die [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/569137
Comments: 11
Kudos: 7





	1. School Days

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I started posting this fic earlier this year, but I hit a wall and got discouraged so I took it down. I've been struggling to write for this series for a while and that made me depressed because I love this series so much, but I'm going to give this fic a second chance (lol). This is one of the last grouptale fics I plan to post. Typing that sentence was harder for me than you might be able to imagine. These characters and their stories have meant so much to me over the last five years and it's going to be hard to say goodbye. I have a final fic planned for this series. I don't know when I'll have it finished or when I'll be able to bring myself to post it, but it's coming. When the time comes to end this journey, I'm going to miss every minute I've spent with this series. I hope if you're a fan of this series that you'll be there for the end, it would mean so much to have your support one last time. Thank you all for everything. Hope you enjoy this fic!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of school is always awkward, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. "Ms. Cohen" is Hop's birth mom. I was initially going to write a reunion fic for Hop and their birth mom but, uh, that obviously didn't happen.

Twain had a lot of experience with first days of school, being in foster care had meant starting over with each new home they went to. Despite knowing more or less what to expect, Twain found this only made them more nervous that morning as they rode to their new school. After so many years underground being homeschooled by Toriel, Twain was less than enthused about returning to the public school system. 

Of course, it was Toriel’s dream to open her own school on the surface, but until then, it had been decided that it would be best for the seven humans to try to reintegrate themselves with other humans as much as possible. Ms. Cohen, Hop’s mother, referred to it as “keeping up appearances,” while all of the kids referred to it as “a load of crap.” Nevertheless, the seven humans decided to go along with it. For Robin, who was eighteen and had passed their high school equivalency test, keeping up appearances didn’t entail much more than their human ambassador duties already required of them. For everyone else, who were still minors, that meant going back to school with other kids for the first time in years. 

The one consolation of it all had been that, even though the kids would all be in different grades, at least they would be at the same school together. Even when the kids discovered the district had separate elementary, middle, and high schools, they’d held onto the hope that with their numbers, odds were none of them would end up alone. 

Fortunately for five of them, that hope held true. Alex, Bell, and Laurel had all been placed in high school level classes; and would be going to school along with Bell’s twin brother, Blue. Hop and Frisk were still in elementary school and, although they were in separate grades, would still get to see each other in the hallways and at lunch. 

Unfortunately for Twain, the lone middle schooler among them, reality was once again there to remind them that not all dreams came true. Laurel, who was technically middle school aged but had tested into high school, had offered to hang back a few grades so Twain wouldn’t be alone, but Twain had refused. Hop demanded to take the grade assessment again to try and test into middle school, but hadn’t succeeded. In the end, Twain had put on a brave face and assured everyone that they would be fine on their own. 

Sitting in the nearly empty van after dropping the others off at their respective schools though, Twain had never felt less sure of himself. The sharp turns and sudden jolts the van made didn’t help matters either. Undyne had volunteered to act as the kids’ chauffeur for the day, excited to try out her new driver’s license; but it was becoming clear with each abrupt stop that she’d relied heavily on her intimidation factor to pass the driving test. Ms. Cohen sat in the passenger seat, gripping the roof handle for dear life as she gave Undyne directions to the school. Robin, who had also come along for the ride, was seated next to Twain, one arm around their younger sibling. 

“...and if anything happens, just call me and I’ll come get you,” Robin had been babbling since they’d left home that morning. At first, they’d addressed all of their siblings but as the van emptied, Robin’s nerves had all focused on Twain. “Even if I’m busy, which I shouldn’t be, but even if I’m busy, I’ll drop everything and come get you.” 

“It’s gonna be fine, Robin,” Twain said, patting their oldest sibling’s knee. They could tell Robin was about as nervous as they were about Twain having to go to school alone, it was kind of comforting to know they weren’t alone in their dread. “If anything goes wrong, I know you’ll be there, but nothing’s gonna go wrong.” 

Robin nodded, managing a shaky smile. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” they asked for the hundredth time that morning. “I know you said it was fine, but it’s not a big deal if you want me to come in.” 

As if to punctuate Robin’s sentence, Undyne pulled the van to a screeching halt in front of the middle school. Twain glanced at the building, their breath catching painfully in their chest for a second, then looked back at Robin. 

“It really is fine, Robin,” Twain said, unbuckling their seatbelt so they could hug their sibling. Robin squeezed Twain tightly for a long moment, then let go. 

“Okay, I guess this is it…” Robin shook their hands and took a deep breath, blinking back tears as Ms. Cohen opened the door for Twain. “Have a great day,” Robin said as they gave Twain one last hug goodbye. 

“Knock ‘em dead, kid,” Undyne turned around and held her fist out. Twain bumped knuckles with the blue fish monster, and Undyne gave them one of her huge grins. “Call me if you need me to kick anyone’s butt!” 

“I will,” Twain laughed, hopping down out of the car. Joining Ms. Cohen, Twain cast a glance back at Robin, who was trying and failing to look calm as Twain left. 

Ms. Cohen smiled sympathetically and patted Robin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Twain gets settled in,” she reassured Robin as she had at every drop off they’d made that morning. 

“Thank you,” Robin said, laughing a little at themself. “You know,  _ this _ is why we decided Toriel shouldn’t come along for this. Believe it or not, she’d be in worse shape than I am right now.” 

“Oh, I believe it,” Ms. Cohen laughed. “Alright, Twain, are you ready?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Twain sighed, giving Robin and Undyne one final wave goodbye before heading towards the school with Ms. Cohen. 

“You must be pretty nervous,” Ms. Cohen remarked as they strode up the stone walkway to the school’s main entrance.

“Kind of, but I’m fine,” Twain lied, hoping Ms. Cohen couldn’t hear their heartbeat hammering in their chest. 

“You kids, you’re all so brave...” Ms. Cohen placed a gentle hand on Twain’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

Neither of them said anything more as they approached the school, passing through the front doors and into the main office in silence. Waiting at the front desk was a young woman in a sharp gray pantsuit, with her shiny straight hair tied up in a sleek ponytail. When Ms. Cohen and Twain stepped into the office, a smile lit up the young woman’s unnaturally smooth face.

Ms. Cohen spoke first, offering her hand to the woman. “Hello, I’m Maribel Cohen, this is my...Twain, this is Twain.” 

“Hi, I’m Principal Cindy Berk,” she introduced herself, shaking hands with Ms. Cohen and then Twain. “Did you get lost on the way here?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “We were afraid you weren’t coming after all.” 

Ms. Cohen glanced at her watch, but didn’t seem too startled by the time. “I suppose we are a tad late,” she conceded. “No, we didn’t get lost. I have five other children who all started school today as well, so, we stopped at the elementary and high schools first, you see.” 

“Saved the best for last, did you?” Principal Berk laughed, but there was a chill to the sound that told Twain she wasn’t very amused. 

“It was the quickest route to come here last,” Ms. Cohen answered, not an ounce of guilt in her voice. “Now, shall we begin the tour?”

“Yes, well…Unfortunately, since you’re so late, homeroom is already in session. So, I’m afraid there’s no time for a tour.” The principal raised her hands in a shrug, smiling in that way adults do when they want to say “I told you so” but don’t want to look immature. “Maybe if you’d gotten here sooner, we would’ve had time.” 

“As I mentioned, I have five other children who are beginning school today,” Ms. Cohen replied, her composure unruffled by the principal’s condescension. “I was hoping that in light of the circumstances, you might be willing to-” 

“I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Cohen, but we don’t bend the rules for anybody here,” The principal kept on smiling, tiny cracks appearing in her bright pink lipstick. “Besides, I think it would be best for Twain if he faced his new classmates on his own. Don’t you agree?” 

“It doesn’t matter if I agree. Twain, what do you think?” Ms. Cohen asked, looking to Twain for his answer. 

Twain glanced between Hop’s mother and the principal. Twain knew Ms. Cohen would fight for her right to escort him to class if Twain said it was important to him, and part of him really wanted the support of an adult he trusted as he faced a classroom full of strangers. But looking at Principal Berk and her cartoonishly wide smile, Twain realized he would have to face her every day for the rest of the school year. Better to get off on the right foot with her, Twain decided. 

“I can go on my own, it’s alright,” Twain assured Ms. Cohen. Standing up on their tiptoes, Twain wrapped their arms around Ms. Cohen’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “It’s not worth the argument,” Twain whispered to Ms. Cohen so only she could hear. 

“Call me if you need anything,” Ms. Cohen whispered back, hesitating for only a moment before planting a kiss on top of Twain’s head. The two pulled apart and Twain walked over to stand at Principal Berk’s side. “Take good care of my kid,” Ms. Cohen said as she shook hands with the principal. 

“Of course! Don’t you worry about a thing!” Principal Berk said, her smile never wavering for even a second. Once Ms. Cohen was gone, Principal Berk waved for Twain to walk with her. Twain scrambled to keep up with her brisk pace.

“I know how frightening starting a new school can be,” Principal Berk said. “But if you project confidence and positivity, people will naturally gravitate towards you.” She handed Twain a stapled packet of paper. “This has everything you need to know on it: your locker location and combination, your class schedule, a map of the school, and the like. That’s your only copy, so don’t lose it.” 

Twain gave the paper a single glance before tucking it into his backpack, a difficult maneuver to pull off while walking. 

“Now, because you were late, you will have missed any announcements from your homeroom teacher; so, it’s up to you to find out what you missed,” Principal Berk continued, finally coming to a stop at a closed door. “Here we are. I’ll go in first and announce you, then you can introduce yourself to the class.” 

Before Twain could protest, Principal Berk had opened the door and walked into the classroom. Twain forced himself to follow, an anchor of dread sinking in his chest. If there were any task more dreaded by students than introducing themselves on the first day of school, Twain was not aware of it. As they entered the classroom, Twain looked around at the blur of faces without really registering any of them. Principal Berk stopped Twain at the dead center of the front of the room, and stepped to the side to give Twain the spotlight he so desperately wanted to avoid. 

“Students, today you have a new classmate. His name is Twain Cook,” the principal announced, gesturing to Twain. Twain glanced at the principal out of the corner of his eye and instead caught sight of a teacher leaned up against the chalkboard; he offered Twain a kind smile which Twain was too nervous to return. 

“Would you like to introduce yourself to your new classmates, Twain?” Principal Berk asked. 

Twain groaned internally. Why did teachers insist on publicly humiliating students with extemporaneous speaking? But Twain didn’t want to cause a scene by refusing, and mustered up their courage to speak in front of a roomful of strangers. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Twain,” he began, giving a wave to the other kids and forcing himself to actually look at their faces. “As my last name might suggest, I like to cook. I haven’t really been in a real school for a long time, so…” 

Twain trailed off as their gaze landed on a boy near the front of the room. The boy was tall even sitting down, with broad shoulders and shaggy brown hair that fell in his gray eyes. Shiny pink lips pulled back over the boy’s teeth, a set of silver braces glinting in the fluorescent lights as he gave Twain a hesitant smile. Twain recognized his old bully immediately. The sight of Dexter Dawson chilled Twain’s blood. 

When Twain didn’t smile back, Dex dropped his gaze to the surface of his desk. Twain blinked in confusion. Dex seemed almost ashamed of himself, which was not how Twain remembered him at all. Tearing their gaze away from Dex, Twain tried to pick their introduction back up where they’d left off. 

“So, uh, yeah...I’ve been homeschooled for the past few years, uh…” Twain faltered, glancing at Principal Berk to try and signal her to come rescue him. She remained standing where she was, smiling encouragingly and motioning for Twain to keep talking. Twain suppressed the urge to roll their eyes. All they wanted to do was turn and run as far away from Dex as possible. Heaving a sigh, Twain threw his manners out the window and started saying what was actually on his mind. 

“You know, I’m sure all of you know exactly who I am and where I’ve been for the past few years,” Twain sighed, putting their hands on their hips and fixing the other students with a steady look. “I’m not ashamed of my life in the underground, it was actually a happier home than I’d had up here.” Twain glanced at Dex, who was watching them with his hand covering most of his face. “So, I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t happen. It’s part of who I am and if anyone has a problem with it, I don’t really care all that much what you think anyways.” Twain let out a deep breath, looking around at the surprised faces in front of him. “Oh yeah, by the way, my dad’s in prison. None of your business why. I love him a lot, even though he’s made some mistakes; and I won’t let anyone make me feel ashamed of him either.” 

“Okay!” Principal Berk clapped her hands together, her smile stretched scarily wide as she struggled to remain upbeat. “Thank you, Twain, for that wonderful introduction. I’m sure we all feel as if we know you very well now!” She turned to the teacher. “I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day, everyone.” 

With that, the principal strode out of the classroom, leaving Twain alone with his captive audience. The teacher came over to Twain and held out his hand. As the two shook hands, the teacher introduced himself. 

“Hi, Twain, I’m Mr. Regis,” he smiled, his brown eyes crinkling at the edges. He was a young man, with dark brown skin and shoulder length dreadlocks. The sleeves of his lilac button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a tattoo of a compass on his left wrist. “Now, you’re a little bit late, but that’s alright. It’s your first day, so we’ll let it slide. Besides you didn’t miss anything important, just attendance,” Mr. Regis said with an easygoing laugh. Twain decided, right then and there, that he liked Mr. Regis. 

“We’re so glad to have you join our class,” Mr. Regis continued. “We have your desk all ready for you, right there behind Jane Darby.” 

Mr. Regis gestured to an Asian American girl in an electric blue tracksuit with a bedazzled lightning bolt on the jacket. Jane Darby waved and smiled her biggest smile at Twain, her tortoiseshell glasses shifting as her grin pushed them up higher on her face. Unlike Principal Berk, Jane’s smile was warm and sincere. Twain breathed a sigh of relief, his desk was on the opposite end of the classroom to Dex’s. Returning Jane’s smile, Twain went to his desk and sat down.

* * *

To Twain’s immense relief, Dex wasn’t in any of his morning classes. They passed each other in the hallway exactly once as Twain made his way to math class. Dex smiled and waved at Twain, to which Twain had replied with a stunned jerk of the head; but there had been no contact other than that. 

Only one other teacher made Twain stand up and give an introduction, which was a small mercy. Even so, by the time the lunch bell rang, Twain felt as if he’d spent the morning doing backflips instead of sitting mutely at a series of interchangeable desks and was ready for a break. After stopping to grab his lunch out of his locker, Twain began making his way to the cafeteria. 

As they walked, Twain wondered who they’d sit with. It seemed unfair to Twain that Alex, Bell, Blue, and Laurel all got to go to the same school while he was by himself. Even Frisk and Hop had each other, but Twain was all alone. 

While thinking about his siblings, Twain became aware of a lurking presence at his back. A familiar feeling of dread filled his stomach, and Twain knew without looking that Dex was approaching him. 

“What do you want, Dex?” Twain demanded, glancing up as his bully fell into step beside him. It was weird. So much time had passed, but being near Dex still made Twain’s skin crawl. 

“I liked your introduction,” Dex said, the words slightly mushed by his mouthful of braces. 

“Thank you,” Twain said in a disinterested monotone. Dex walked along with Twain, opening and closing his mouth a few times but never saying anything. Twain kept their eyes forward, not wanting to encourage any further interaction. Twain could not wrap his head around why Dex was being nice to him, and didn’t want to try to understand. When the two reached the cafeteria, Twain pushed the doors open and stepped inside, scanning the swarm of kids for an open seat. At that point, any open seat would do, so long as Twain had an excuse to not be near Dex anymore.

“Do you need a place to sit?” Dex asked, jamming his thumb in the direction of a table crowded with other kids. “You can sit with me and my friends, if you want.”

“No, I do not need a place to sit,” Twain snapped. Their cheeks flared with either embarrassment or rage, Twain couldn’t tell the difference. Casting another glance at Dex’s table, Twain noticed a mean-looking boy yanking on a girl’s long blonde ponytail. Twain grimaced at the sight. “Besides,” Twain continued, pointing a finger at the mean-looking boy, who was laughing at the girl’s outcry of pain. “I don’t think I’d like your friends very much.” 

“Oh,” Dex deflated. If Twain didn’t know better, they’d have thought Dex looked disappointed. “Well, hey, I was only offering. No big deal.”

“Good,” Twain said, then stormed off in a random direction.

“Twain! Hey, Twain!” An unfamiliar voice called. 

Twain turned towards the voice to find an arm clad in electric blue waving at him from a few tables away. As if on cue, Jane Darby stood up so Twain could see her smiling face. 

“Come sit with me!” Jane shouted over the cacophony of other kids’ voices. 

Weaving their way through the cafeteria, Twain made it to where Jane was sitting by herself at the far end of an otherwise crowded table. Twain sat down with a sigh of relief and smiled back at Jane, glad to have a friend. 

“Did I see you talking to Dex?” Jane asked, closing the book she’d been reading and turning her attention to Twain.

“Oh, yeah,” Twain answered. “He, uh, offered to let me sit with him, but I...I didn’t really like the looks of the people at his table.” 

“I know what you mean,” Jane agreed with an emphatic nod. “Dex is a pretty nice guy, but for some reason he hangs out with, like, nothing but jerks. But that’s only at school; outside of school, Dex hangs out with this high school kid who I don’t know the name of. They have some sort of club, but not a lot of people are in it, so it’s pretty much just the two of them.” 

“Huh!” Twain glanced at Dex, who was pulling apart an empty milk carton with such an intense look of misery that Twain almost felt bad for him. Twain wondered what kind of club Dex had with a high school student and why it was so unpopular, but tucked that question away for a different time. Zipping open their lunch bag, Twain removed a container of chocolate chip cookies and held it out to Jane. “Want some?” 

“Oooh! Don’t mind if I do!” Jane’s eyes lit up as she took a cookie and immediately bit into it. “Oh my God, that’s amazing. Where’d you get these?” 

“I made them, actually,” Twain announced, leaving the container between Jane and him. “I heard that bringing extra cookies was a good way to make friends at a new school, so I whipped these up last night.” 

“Whoever told you that was right,” Jane nodded sagely, already reaching for a second cookie. “I’m kind of in love with you right now.” 

Twain laughed, their spirits sufficiently lifted. Their gaze fell to the book Jane had been reading. When Twain caught a glimpse of the title, their heartbeat fluttered. 

“Is that a  _ Percy Jackson  _ book?” Twain asked, pointing to the golden lettering on the book’s cover. 

“Yeah!” Jane brandished the book as proudly as if she were the author. “Have you read them?” 

“I only read the first book, because I had it with me when I fell down, but I loved it. I always wanted to read the rest of the series.”

“I have all of the books, I’ll loan them to you!” Jane bounced with excitement, running a hand over the book’s cover. “This is the last one, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s so good! I’ll bring you the second one tomorrow. I can’t believe you like these, everyone else says they’re old and boring.”

“What!? They’re awesome,” Twain said. 

“I know!” Jane exclaimed. 

Twain spent the rest of the lunch period and recess in the throes of a feverish back and forth which only occurs between two people who have finally found another person to share in the enjoyment of a beloved book. Jane and he went their separate ways as she headed to music class and he headed to history; but each left with a promise to continue their conversation the next morning in homeroom. 

Twain coasted into his history classroom with a smile on his face, turning to introduce himself to the teacher. But as Twain’s eyes snagged on a familiar lilac shirt, they realized they already knew their history teacher. Mr. Regis smiled as he saw Twain approaching him. 

“Twain, it’s good to see you again,” Mr. Regis said sincerely. “Don’t worry if you’re a little behind, I’ve got a review packet for you here.” He handed Twain the packet in question, which wasn’t as thick and daunting as Twain had been fearing it would be. “Take your time going through that and let me know if you have any questions. I’m sure you’ll catch up in no time. We’ve got a few open seats in here, so feel free to pick whichever one you want.”

Twain nodded and turned their attention to the rows of desks, keeping an eye out for empty seats. The first empty spot Twain spied was right in the front, in between a kid with an array of glitter gel pens spread out before them and a kid who-

The other kid was Dex. Dex was in Twain’s history class, sitting next to one of the few open seats in the room. Twain wanted to scream. Just when things were looking up, there Dex was to ruin them. 

_ No.  _ Twain shook the negativity from their thoughts.  _ No, I’m not going to let him ruin my good mood. _

Dex was hunched over his textbook, his face pressed so close his nose was almost touching the pages; but when Twain walked by he looked up. 

“Hey, Twain,” Dex greeted Twain with a smile, as if they were old friends, and gestured to the seat next to him. “You can sit here, if you want.” 

“No, thank you,” Twain replied in a curt tone. Pulling their shoulders back, Twain held their head up high and strode past Dex. There was another empty seat a couple of rows back that Twain took. 

Class started and Mr. Regis began describing an upcoming project, but Twain was only half-listening. Their eyes kept drifting over to Dex, whose eyes kept drifting over to Twain. Each time the two of them accidentally made eye contact, Dex and Twain would avert their gazes to anything else in the room. The entire period passed in that way. When the bell rang, Twain was out of their seat like a shot, hustling to their next class as fast as they could. 

The rest of the afternoon dragged on, each class more boring than the last. Twain was almost brought to tears during a particularly boring vocabulary lesson when they were struck with a painful longing to go home and see their siblings. But Twain took a deep breath and tried to comfort himself with the fact the school day was almost over. 

* * *

At the end of the school day, Twain stopped at his locker to grab a textbook he needed for homework. Twain fumbled to get his things together as quick as possible, his fingertips vibrating with the anticipation of finally getting to go home.

“Twain?”

Twain groaned at the sound of his name, recognizing Dex’s voice immediately. Shoving his textbook into his backpack, Twain slammed his locker door shut and turned to face Dex. 

“Yeah?” Twain asked, crossing their arms as they looked up into Dex’s eyes. 

“I, um…” Dex shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “I was wondering if we could talk?” 

Twain looked Dex up and down, and couldn’t deny that he actually felt a pang of sympathy for the other kid’s obvious nervousness. But Dex had put Twain through a lot when they were younger, memories so painful it was hard for Twain to even think about them. So, despite their overwhelming sympathetic capabilities, Twain remained stone-faced. 

“I’m not really interested in talking to you,” Twain replied at last and began making his way towards the nearest exit, leaving Dex behind him. 

“Listen, I-” Dex followed Twain, easily keeping pace with the shorter kid’s steps. “I know I was terrible to you, I know there’s nothing I can do to change what happened-” 

“So, why are you still talking to me?” Twain shoved a door open and was outside, the sudden onrush of sunlight making his eyes water. He made a beeline for the parking lot where he knew his siblings would be waiting. “Neither of us can change what happened, it all worked out for the best anyways, let’s just drop it and ignore each other like I know you want to.”

“That’s not what I want,” Dex argued.

“Then, what do you want?” Twain spun around and looked Dex square in the eyes. 

“I want to apologize for everything I did to you,” Dex said. “What happened on Mt. Ebott, it was an accident. I know that doesn’t help, but I want you to know I never meant-” 

“An accident!?” Twain tried to laugh, but a sharp, cruel sound that felt alien in his throat was all that came out. “Do you remember how that ‘accident’ happened in the first place?” 

“Of course, I remember,” Dex said sheepishly. 

“Because I remember every single second of it,” Twain spat. “I still have nightmares about it, you know.” 

“I know there’s nothing I can do to make it up to you, Twain, but I-” Dex broke off with a choked noise; he cleared his throat before continuing. “I swore to myself if I ever saw you again, I would tell you I was sorry.” 

Twain felt the corners of his eyes prick, but blinked back the tears. The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of Dex. Mustering up every last ounce of energy he had left, Twain took a deep breath and set Dex with a hard look. 

“Well, now you’ve said it,” Twain smacked their lips. “So, there’s no reason for you to feel guilty anymore, is there? Now, leave me alone.” Twain turned to go. 

“No, wait.” Dex reached out for Twain’s wrist to stop him from leaving. 

Twain’s blood ran cold at the feeling of Dex’s tight gript; but before Twain could pull away, a different hand took hold of Dex’s wrist and ripped the other kid’s hand off of Twain. The rescuing hand travelled up and around Twain’s head, a strong arm coming to rest across Twain’s shoulders. 

“Everything alright here?” Alex asked, their eyes trained on Dex. 

Twain sagged with relief as they gazed up at their older sibling. “Alex, it’s so good to see you.” 

“I saw you from across the lot,” Alex said, jerking their head in the direction they’d come from. “Looked like you could use a hand. Who is this?” 

“It doesn’t matter, let’s just go,” Twain said, trying to steer Alex away from Dex. 

“Is this one of your siblings?” Dex asked.

“Yes,” Twain replied. “Now, if you don’t mind, we-” 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Laurel popped up on Twain’s other side, looking between their siblings and Dex with a skeptical brow. “Robin says to hurry up because Toriel’s really excited to see us. Who is this?” 

“Nobody! Let’s leave!” Twain reiterated. 

“I saw him grab Twain,” Alex informed Laurel. 

Laurel’s eyes widened behind their glasses, their face going white with rage as they looked at Dex. “Oh, really?” 

“I’m fine, please, can we go?” Twain went to duck out of Alex’s hold so he could begin to direct his siblings back towards the van, but his efforts were thwarted when a sudden force collided with his back. Two graceful arms wrapped around Twain from behind and hugged him close.

“Hey, Twain, how was your day? Mine sucked ass,” Bell said by way of greeting. Tilting their head to the side, Bell gave Dex a quizzical look. “So, what’s with the hold up? Who is this?” 

Twain sighed, exasperation coursing through their entire body. “No one. Can we-”

“Dex!” Blue cut Twain off, running past the others and stopping in front of Dex. “What’s happening over here, is everything alright?” Blue asked, putting a hand on Dex’s shoulder. 

“I was just trying to talk to Twain,” Dex explained. “I didn’t mean to scare him.” 

“I’m not scared!” Twain burst forward, propelled by fury, their eyes fixed on Blue. “Are you two friends!?”

“Yes,” Blue winced. “I was going to tell you, but there never seemed to be a right time.”

“Wait a second,” Bell piped up, pushing their way into the center of the group. “Twain, how do you know this guy?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Twain insisted. “Can we please go home?” 

“Hold on.” Laurel held up their hands to halt everyone, turning to Blue. “You said his name was ‘Dex’?” 

Blue glanced nervously around at the expectant faces all awaiting his reply. “Um…” 

Laurel whipped around to look at Twain. “‘Dex’ as in the bully who threw you down Mt. Ebott!?” they demanded.

“You’re kidding.” Bell shook their head slowly, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“What!?” Alex roared, glaring at Dex as they brought their fists up. “You little punk, you’ll be lucky if I don’t-” 

“Stop!” Twain stamped their foot on the ground, silencing the others. “Stop, all of you! Stop before you get started. I appreciate what you’re trying to do…” Twain paused, making fleeting eye contact with Dex. “...all of you, but I do not want to have a big fight in front of the school about this. Now, can we all drop it and pretend like this never happened?” 

Twain didn’t wait for a response, brushing past the others and stalking away. Across the parking lot, Twain spied Robin’s orange hair; the sight made Twain speed up. When Twain reached the family’s van, Robin was fidgeting with Frisk’s seatbelt, murmuring something in a low voice to the younger child. The sound was so comforting it brought Twain to tears. He made a small choking noise that caught Robin’s attention, and Twain’s oldest sibling turned to look at him. 

“Twain, there you are!” Robin smiled, stepping out of the van to greet Twain. “What took you so long? Were you talking to someone? Toriel can’t wait to hear about your day, she-” 

Without a word, Twain threw his arms around Robin’s waist. Robin reciprocated the hug without any further prompting.

“Rough first day?” Robin asked, rubbing their hand in soothing circles between Twain’s shoulders. 

“You have no idea,” Twain sniffled, burying their face in the soft fabric of Robin’s T-shirt. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” 

“Okay, you don’t have to,” Robin assured Twain. And just like that, the subject was dropped. “Let’s get you home, huh? Go on in the van.”

Twain agreed readily, climbing up into the van. Frisk sat in the back and waved at Twain, holding up a card for them to see. It was a welcome card that Frisk’s entire class had signed. Twain smiled, glad that Frisk had had a good first day of school. Hop was squeezed between the two front seats, talking a mile a minute to Undyne about every detail of their day. Hop was in the middle of explaining why red was the superior math notebook color, when they noticed Twain entering. 

“Twain!” Hop spun around and pounced on Twain, giving them a hug so forceful it toppled them both into the nearest seat. “How was your day? I missed you, none of my classmates are nearly as fun as you are. Although, I did meet some cool new people. What about you? Did you meet anyone nice?” 

“Good luck, kid,” Undyne called over her shoulder. “They’ve been going like this since I picked them up.”

“That’s alright, Undyne, I don’t mind,” Twain laughed, already feeling more at ease. “I missed you, too, Hop. More than you can imagine.” 

Some of the excitement on Hop’s face dwindled. “What’s wrong?” Hop asked. “Did something happen? Is that why all of them ran over to you?” 

“No, nothing happened,” Twain said, looking out at the parking lot where the rest of their siblings had almost reached the van. “It was just a long day.” Twain sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

“Okay,” Hop nodded, sitting down next to Twain. “Sorry you had a bad day.” 

“It wasn’t all bad,” Twain said. “It was just hard.” 

Robin climbed in before the others arrived, collapsing in the shotgun seat with a huff. “Well, something’s certainly got all of them riled up.” 

The van doors opened and the others came spilling in from all angles, all of them talking at the same time about what had just transpired. Twain squeezed their eyes shut and covered their ears, trying to block out the stream of words flooding the tiny space. 

“Rob, you are never gonna believe what just happened,” Alex said immediately upon entering, grabbing Robin’s sleeve and relaying the information to them using as many hand gestures as they possibly could.

“Wait, what happened!?” Hop demanded, leaning forward to eavesdrop on Robin and Alex’s conversation. “You have to tell me, it’s not fair if you know and I don’t.” 

“...can’t believe that you’re friends with him!” Bell was snapping at Blue as they climbed into the van, anger stamped on their brow. “How can you be friends with him? What’s wrong with you?” 

“You don’t know all the details.” Blue rolled his eyes, collapsing in the nearest seat. “You’re not even listening to me, you-” 

“He threw Twain down Mt. Ebott, what other details do we need!?” Laurel spat. 

Twain’s palms grew sweaty against their ears, the paltry shield of their hands doing little to allay the deluge of voices filling the van. His family’s voices blurred together into a cacophony, until Twain couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Heat crawled up Twain’s neck and over their face, choking each breath they managed to push through their clenched teeth. 

“Shut up!” Twain shouted at last, slamming their fist down on the seat in time with their words. “Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t want to talk about it!” 

The van went silent in an instant, everyone’s eyes on Twain. Twain took one look at the mixture of shock and concern on the faces around them and finally let go of the tears they’d been holding back all day. Covering their face with their hands, Twain curled in on themself as their sobs grew louder. 

Someone with arms shorter than his pulled Twain into a hug, whom he recognized as Hop. Twain uncurled himself and wrapped his arms around Hop, crying into his younger sibling’s neck. A few hushed whispers passed between Twain’s siblings, but nothing intelligible. The van roared to life and Undyne began driving. 

When Undyne parked in front of the house, Twain launched out of the van. The front door of the house opened and Toriel appeared in the doorway. The sight of her made Twain’s gut wrench; she looked so happy to see all of them back home, she had no idea about anything that had happened that day. As much as Twain wanted to just run into Toriel’s arms, they couldn’t stand the thought of having to be there as their siblings told her about Dex. So, zipping right past Toriel, Twain ran inside and didn’t stop running until they reached their bedroom. Slamming the door shut behind them, Twain threw themself on their bed and started crying all over again.


	2. Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twain does his best to avoid Dex at all costs.

Toriel knew immediately that something had gone wrong. Robin, in a feat of human speed that impressed even Undyne, bolted out of the van and pulled Toriel aside to tell her what had happened before any of their siblings got the chance to. By the time the others fought their way past the child safety locks, Toriel had received as rational an explanation of what was wrong as she was going to get from any of her children. Undyne, eager to avoid an awkward situation, shouted something about taking the van for an oil change before speeding away so fast the van left black tire marks on the driveway. 

Alex was still fuming as they burst into the house, their voice a hair’s breadth away from shouting. “I swear on my left hook, if I ever see that Dex kid near Twain again, I’m gonna grab him by the neck and-” 

“And what!? Beat up a twelve-year-old?” Robin interrupted with a scoff, closing the front door behind their family as they all came inside. “Yeah, that’ll make you look like a real hero, Alex.” 

“Whose side are you on, Rob?” 

“I’m on Twain’s side, and Twain has made it very clear they don’t want us to do anything to Dex.” 

“But Robin, that bully tortured Twain, don’t you think we should tell the principal at least?” Bell interjected. 

“Yeah, maybe we could get Dex expelled,” Laurel added. 

“Dex doesn’t deserve to get expelled, he’s changed,” Blue defended his friend. “I’ll talk to him, tell him to leave Twain alone. If he doesn’t listen, then-” 

“I’m not waiting for things to get worse!” Laurel shouted at Blue, their cheeks flaring red. 

“Laurel, please, there is no need to shout,” Toriel chided, casting a glance up at the ceiling, nervous that Twain might overhear. 

“I think we should let Twain decide what to do! And Frisk agrees with me!” Hop announced for the umpteenth time since the argument at hand had broken out. Frisk was at their side, vigorously nodding their head in support. 

“Oh, come on, you know Twain would just forgive him like they forgive everyone,” Alex rolled their eyes. 

“What’s so bad about forgiveness?” Hop demanded. “I forgave my mom!” 

“Your mom didn’t throw you down a mountain hoping to kill you!” Laurel countered, then suddenly winced. They cast a guilty glance at Robin, who stood with their lips pressed together in a thin line. 

“Dex did not throw Twain down Mt. Ebott and he didn’t want to kill them,” Blue argued.

“Blue, how can you defend this guy?” Bell shook her head at her twin. “Maybe he didn’t mean to throw Twain down Mt. Ebott, but he might as well have. I don’t see any reason to trust him.” 

“You don’t even know him,” Blue spat, turning on his heel and storming towards the staircase. 

“Where are you going!?” Bell called. Blue was already halfway up the stairs. 

“To talk to Twain!” Blue shouted over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner. 

“Robin!” Bell gestured in their twin’s direction. “Are you just going to let him do that?” 

“Yes, I am,” Robin said, putting their hands resolutely on their hips. “And we are all going to get a grip right now. We love Twain, so it is hard not to take this personally. But flipping out like this isn’t making this situation better for Twain, it’s making it worse. Twain needs our support right now, whatever they decide to do about this.” 

Laurel crossed their arms and let out a huff. “I don’t want to see them get bullied.” 

“Uh, yeah, me either,” Alex agreed. 

“No one wants that,” Toriel spoke up, coming to stand at Robin’s side in solidarity. “But we must trust Twain to make the right decision for themself, in this case. Just because they are kind, it does not necessarily follow that they are naive. If Twain tells us to let them handle the situation on their own, then we should give them that chance.” Putting her arm around Robin, Toriel smiled sadly. “I know very well what it is to want to protect someone, my children, but you must take care not to suffocate them in the process.” 

All the children were silent then, passing unsure gazes between each other. None of them knew what to expect moving forward, and it was troubling to think of any harm befalling their beloved sibling. But in that quiet, what Robin and Toriel (and even Hop and Frisk) had been trying to say on Twain’s behalf began to sink in. It was important for Twain to be able to face Dex in the way he wanted to, and it was equally important for him to have the support of his family as he did so. 

* * *

Twain was still crying on his bed when there came a knock at the door. 

“Who is it?” Twain called, conscious of how stuffy his voice sounded after crying so hard for so long. 

“It’s Blue. Can I come in?” 

Twain sat upright, debating whether or not to let Blue in. But really, there was no debate. Whatever outrage Twain felt at Blue being friends with Dex, it was immediately outweighed by Twain’s own desire to be friends with Blue. And being friends meant letting people explain themselves when they did something to upset you. 

“Yeah, you can come in,” Twain answered. “The door’s not locked.” 

Slowly, the door pushed open and Blue poked his concerned face inside. Coming fully into the room, Blue closed the door again and came over to the edge of the bed. 

“Can I sit?” Blue asked, pointing to the empty space next to Twain. Twain nodded and Blue sat down. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about Dex,” Blue said.

Twain let out a heavy sigh. “Why are you friends with him?” 

“Did Bell ever tell you about how they fell down, like, the whole story?” Blue asked. 

“Not really,” Twain replied. “To be honest, Bell didn’t even tell us they had a twin until a couple days before we broke the barrier. I know there was a dare or something for Bell to dance on the chasm’s edge, but not more than that...I think maybe Bell was embarrassed about whatever happened.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like them,” Blue nodded. “What Bell told you was true, there was a bet they made to dance on the edge of Mt. Ebott’s chasm, which they lost. But what they didn’t tell you was that I was there with them, and I…” Blue broke off with a choked noise and Twain worried he might start crying, but Blue regained his composure. “Well, I was almost able to pull them back up, but I didn’t.” 

“Oh no,” Twain gasped, putting a hand on Blue’s arm. “That’s terrible.” 

“And when I went home afterwards, I couldn’t talk about it,” Blue continued. “Like, how was I supposed to be able to tell my parents what happened? I couldn’t. So, I didn’t. But keeping a secret like that...it kills you, it really does. I was angry all the time, I started acting out in school, I mean...it was bad for a long time.” 

“Blue, I’m sorry,” Twain said. “No one should have to keep a secret like that, it must have been awful for you all those years.” 

“It was,” Blue agreed. “I mean, my parents and everyone assumed it was because Bell had gone missing but no one knew exactly why I was so messed up over it. Even when my parents got me into counseling and I started to do better, I still couldn’t tell anyone about it. I still haven’t told my parents, I just...it’s too hard.” Blue closed his eyes and took a shaky breath before continuing. “Anyways, here’s where Dex comes in. A couple years after Bell had been gone, you went missing,” Blue said. “There had been another rumored disappearance a few months after Bell, but no one knew much about the kid.”

“That’d be Laurel,” Twain supplied. 

“Right,” Blue nodded. “When you went missing though, it was a bigger deal because people knew you. You had lived in the town, so people knew who you were.” 

“I didn’t live here that long before I fell down,” Twain commented.

“It was long enough. In this town, if a kid’s so much as ten minutes late for dinner, people assume they’ve disappeared down the mountain.” Blue paused to roll his eyes. “Not an unfounded fear, obviously, but an annoying one, nonetheless. Anyways, when you went missing so soon after I caught Dex picking on you, I figured he knew something about it. So, one day not long after you were gone, I caught him alone and confronted him. I was mad at first, but then he started crying and begging me not to tell anyone and apologizing, saying it was an accident, and I...I don’t know, it reminded me a lot of myself after I lost Bell.”

“But with Bell, it really was an accident that they fell,” Twain protested. “Dex dragged me up that mountain.” 

Blue held up his hands in surrender, not arguing Twain’s point. “I’m not trying to defend what he did to you. From my position though, I saw a really troubled kid who really regretted something awful he’d done. The fact that he’s sorry doesn’t change anything that happened, but I figured maybe something good could come out of a shitty situation. Do you know what I mean?” 

It was strange, but in that moment, Twain thought of his family. If Twain hadn’t fallen down into the Ruins, he never would have met his siblings. If they had never met, they never would have saved the underground. There was a lot of good that had come out of the bad. 

“Yeah,” Twain answered at last. “I guess I know what you mean.” 

“So, instead of ratting Dex out, I told him if he was really sorry for what he did, he should try to do something good instead of just feeling sorry for himself,” Blue recounted. “One thing led to another and, before you know it, he and I were hanging out all the time and starting our anti-bullying club.”

Twain’s ears perked up at that last bit. “Wait, anti-bullying club?” Twain remembered something Jane Darby had told them earlier that day. “You’re the high schooler that Dex is friends with?” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess so?” Blue laughed, not quite understanding where the question had come from. “But yeah, Dex and I have an anti-bullying club that is...supremely unpopular and no one comes to it.” 

“How come?” Twain asked.

“People call it ‘Snitch Club.’” Blue rolled his eyes again. “They assume it’s a thing the school started to catch kids who are bullies, which is so not the point but now it’s like you’re branding yourself a tattletale if you so much as glance at one of our posters. So yeah, like I said, supremely unpopular. I’ve asked Dex a few times if he thinks we should disband it, but he always says that we should keep it going, just in case.” 

“He does?” Twain felt their heart constrict. They took a deep breath to quell the mounting emotion in their chest. “Do you really think he’s changed? I mean, you knew him before, so you’d know. Do you?” 

“Yes, I do,” Blue nodded. “But, look, if you really don’t want Dex to bother you, I’ll tell him to leave you alone.” 

“I would appreciate that, Blue,” Twain said. 

“He really is sorry, Twain,” Blue added. “You don’t have to forgive him and you don’t have to talk to him, but he really does regret what he did to you. Whatever else you think of him, I want you to know that’s real.” 

Twain smiled and nodded. “Thank you for telling me that.” 

“I’ll leave you alone now,” Blue said, standing up. “I’ll see ya later, Twain.” 

With that, Blue slipped from the room, leaving Twain by himself. Twain flopped backward onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He replayed the conversation he’d just had over a few times in his head, trying to decipher how he felt about all of this new information. After a while though, Twain was tired of being alone with his thoughts and decided he needed a second opinion. 

Twain snuck out of his room and crept through the house, looking for Robin. If there was one person Twain trusted at all times, it was Robin. At that time of day, Twain usually helped Robin cook dinner anyways, so they knew exactly where to find their oldest sibling. 

When Twain crept into the kitchen, Robin was at the counter, chopping vegetables while a large green pot of water simmered on the stovetop. Robin’s hair was twirled up in a fancy bun that Ms. Cohen had taught them how to do and they were wearing their “Kiss the Cook” apron that Papyrus had given them (except the word “cook” had been crossed out and the word “skeleton” had been scribbled in). Although Twain had taken care to be as silent as possible, Robin looked up immediately when they heard them come in. 

“Hey!” Robin greeted Twain with a smile. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming down, so I started without you. That garlic needs dicing, if you want to help.” 

“Do you even need to ask?” Twain laughed, grabbing their apron off the hook on the wall. The apron had been a gift from Undyne; it was made from lightweight scale armor in lieu of your more traditional fabric, and came equipped with a loop on the side from which to hang your sword. Despite its unusual construction, it was still a pretty good apron. 

“Blue went home,” Robin said. “Did you and him have a good talk?” 

“Yeah, it was...interesting,” Twain said, picking up a knife and setting to work on the garlic. 

“Oh, yeah?” Robin gave Twain a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised. “Anything you wanted to talk to me about?” 

“Well, Blue told me all about how Dex has changed and how he’s really sorry for what he did, but I still don’t know how to feel,” Twain shook their head. “I just don’t get why Dex would try to talk to me, he has to know I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Maybe he really wanted to show you he was sorry,” Robin said. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him, what he did to you was terrible, but maybe things went out of his control back then. Sometimes, people don’t realize the consequences of their actions until it’s too late.” 

Twain thought over Robin’s words, then asked, “Would you forgive your parents for what they did to you? Like, if they were really sorry and apologized and everything?” 

Robin paused mid-chop, their grip on the knife in their hand trembling slightly. They took a deep breath and set the knife down. 

“I don’t know,” Robin said. “I think it’s different when parents do that kind of stuff. When you decide to raise a kid, you’re making a promise to always take care of them. My birth parents never…” Robin trailed off, their breath stuttering as if their words were choking them. “Anyways, you don’t have to forgive Dex, if you don’t want to. All I’m saying is that maybe he really is trying to be a better person, and you can appreciate that without feeling like you owe him some kind of reward for it.” 

“Do you think he’s really trying to be a better person?” Twain asked. 

“I can’t say for sure since I haven’t actually met him, but from what I heard it seems like he’s trying to be friendly, at least,” Robin shrugged. “Isn’t that already different from how he treated you before?”

“Yeah,” Twain nodded. “I guess I just...For all of these years, I’ve only known Dex as the bully from my nightmares. It seems weird to me to think of him as a friend.” 

“I know the feeling,” Robin smiled.

Usually, when people told Twain they knew how he felt, Twain reacted with skepticism. But one glance at the scars Undyne had left on their oldest sibling’s arm reminded Twain that Robin did in fact know how it felt to know someone as a bully for years, only to later come to know that same person as a friend later. 

“So, do you think I should give Dex a second chance?” Twain finished dicing the garlic and set his knife down. 

“I think you should do what you think is right,” Robin answered, resuming their vegetable chopping with a steady hand. “And if you don’t know what to do right now, play it safe and don’t talk to him yet. If Dex really wants to earn your trust, he’ll give you the space you need to think things over.”

“Thanks, Robin.” Twain wrapped their arms around Robin’s waist and hugged them. “You always know what to say.” 

“I try my best.” Robin set their knife down so they could hug Twain back. They squeezed their younger sibling tightly, a sudden urgency in their movements. “If Dex or anyone does anything to hurt you, promise you’ll tell me?” Robin whispered.

“Of course.” Twain nodded.

“Good,” Robin patted Twain on the back before releasing him and turning back to their vegetables. “Now, let’s get a move on with dinner before Alex does their whole ‘I’m starving to death’ act.” 

“Oh, yeah, we wouldn’t want them to have a heart attack,” Twain joked, elbowing Robin in the ribs. 

“Ha ha,” Robin ruffled Twain’s hair, a fond grin on their freckled face. “Get to work before I fire you.” 

“Aye aye captain!” Twain saluted Robin and set to work in the kitchen, happily losing himself in the act of cooking. By the time dinner was ready, Twain felt so much better that they were almost excited to go to school again the next day.

* * *

Whatever Blue said to Dex, it must have worked. The next few days at school, Dex barely even looked at Twain. Each time the two of them were in the same room, Dex would keep his eyes glued to whatever assignment he had in front of him. In the cafeteria, Twain sometimes let their gaze drift towards Dex’s table, but Dex was always looking in the opposite direction. 

For some undefinable reason, Twain began to feel sad that Dex wouldn’t so much as look their way. It was some small measure of relief, of course, not to have to worry about being accosted by Dex at inopportune times. However, the relief Twain felt was mingled with an unresolved tension that gnawed at their gut any time they managed to catch Dex’s eye. 

What Twain wanted more than anything was to know what to do. Robin had told them to play it safe, but playing it safe came with the risk of never finding out what Dex was all about. Still, Twain took their oldest sibling’s advice and kept waiting to be sure about what they wanted to do. The only problem was, Twain wasn’t sure they would ever know what they wanted to do.

At the end of the sixth day of not knowing what to do, Twain’s family was late picking him up from school. When the van finally pulled up in front of Twain, the school parking lot was nearly empty. Robin rolled down their window and gave Twain an apologetic look. 

“Sorry we’re late, Twain.  _ Someone _ got held back after class for swearing at their teacher,” Robin shot a glare back in what Twain knew was Alex’s direction. 

“I did not swear at him, I swore near him, and he totally overreacted!” Alex defended themself from within the van. “Also, ‘dammit’ is barely a swear word, it’s like saying ‘heck.’” 

“Yeah? That’s not what your detention slip says,” Robin countered. “Anyways, Twain, we’re sorry we’re late.” 

“That’s fine, I’m just glad everything’s okay,” Twain said, grabbing the door handle. Twain had only opened the door a crack before he winced at a rather inconvenient realization. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

“What’s that?” Robin, who had only been half paying attention, asked. Hop and Frisk, who had heard Twain loud and clear, were making shocked faces and giving Twain exaggerated wags of their fingers from where they sat, out of Robin’s eyeshot. Twain stuck their tongue out at them before closing the van door on their sarcastically disapproving faces. 

“I forgot a book in my locker,” Twain said to Robin. “I need it for my homework.” 

“Oh, then, you’d better go get it,” Robin said. “We’ll wait here for you.” A chorus of groans erupted at the word ‘wait,’ which Robin silenced with a single snap of their fingers. “Go on, Twain, we’ll be here waiting... _ patiently _ .”

Twain nodded in response, taking off at a run towards the school. It was strange to be in the school when there were no other people around. Twain jogged through the barren hallways as fast as they could, not wanting to keep their family waiting. They had almost reached their locker when they rounded a corner to find Dex standing a ways down the hall. Dex was busy pinning a flier to a bulletin board, and didn’t appear to take any notice of Twain. 

Twain considered taking an alternative route to their locker, in the interest of avoiding another collision with Dex. But the past few days, Dex had given Twain all kinds of space; so Twain didn’t feel too concerned about an altercation resulting from them passing each other in the hall. Sucking in a deep breath, Twain mustered their courage and began striding down the hallway. 

When Twain was about halfway to Dex, the sound of multiple footsteps arose behind Twain. A wave of relief washed over Twain as they realized they wouldn’t have to be alone in the hallway with Dex after all. Confidence bolstered, Twain picked up their pace and walked right past Dex without a second glance. For his part, Dex didn’t try to stop Twain or even talk to him; and the two passed by each other in complete silence. Twain had reached another corner and was about to turn, when they heard a cruel voice echo through the hallway. 

“Hanging up posters for Snitch Club again, Dawson?” 

Twain stopped dead in their tracks and turned around. The footsteps he had heard behind him had turned out to be several boys in basketball jerseys, a couple of whom Twain recognized from Dex’s table in the cafeteria. The boys had formed a lopsided semicircle around Dex, who was backed up against the bulletin board, clutching a stack of green papers in his hands. 

“It’s not a club about snitching,” Dex explained. His voice sounded tired, as if this were something he had to explain often. “It’s a program to help reduce the amount of bullying-” 

One of the boys reached out and smacked the fliers from Dex’s hands, cutting Dex off mid sentence. Green papers spewed over the linoleum floor in every direction. Twain’s gut lurched, telling him to do something to help; but the thought of actually confronting those boys kept him rooted to the spot with fear. 

“That’s what I think of your program,” the boy who’d smacked the papers sneered. The other boys started laughing and high-fiving each other. Satisfied with their efforts, the boys turned away from Dex and began to leave, when they noticed Twain standing at the end of the hall.

“What are you looking at, Monster Kid?” One of the boys called out. The gaggle of basketball boys was getting closer by the second, and Twain wasn’t about to try to take them all on himself. 

“N-Nothing.” Twain shook their head, too petrified to even move as the boys reached him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” the same boy laughed and then continued on his way, his teammates following him. 

Footsteps receded to silence, leaving Twain and Dex alone in the hallway once more. Dex had dropped to his hands and knees, gathering up his scattered fliers. Twain thought about just leaving, but felt guilty about not doing anything to stop the other boys from bullying Dex. Walking back up the way they’d come, Twain got on their hands and knees and started gathering up fliers, too. Dex glanced up at Twain, but didn’t say anything.

“‘Bully Buddy Program’?” Twain read off one of the fliers. “Is that the anti-bullying thing you and Blue do?” 

“Yeah,” Dex answered, letting his shaggy hair fall in his face so Twain couldn’t see his eyes. “We’ve been doing it a few years now.” 

“Do you have a lot of members?” Twain asked, even though they already knew the answer.

“Not really,” Dex sighed. “A lot of people are too embarrassed to join, I think. Or they think it’s just a club to get bullies in trouble, like those guys do.” 

“That’s too bad,” Twain murmured, picking up the last of the scattered fliers. Straightening up his pile of papers, Twain handed it to Dex. “I think it’s a good idea.” 

“Well, you’re about the only one who does,” Dex smiled, sitting back against the lockers.

Twain leaned back on their hands, cocking their head to one side as they looked at Dex. “If it’s so unpopular, why do you guys keep doing it?” 

“I don’t know,” Dex shrugged. “It’s important to try, I guess.” 

“I’m sorry about those guys,” Twain said, jerking their head in the direction the basketball players went. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Dex said with a halfhearted laugh. “They do crap like that all the time. I’m used to it.” 

Twain didn’t say anything else, only sat and regarded Dex silently for a long moment. Then, remembering their siblings were waiting for them, Twain stood up in a hurry and straightened themself out. 

“Sorry,” Twain said. “I have to go.” 

“That’s okay. Thanks for the...” Dex shook the stack of reassembled papers. “You know.”

“Don’t mention it,” Twain smiled, already walking away. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Bye!” Dex called to Twain’s retreating back. 

Twain walked the rest of the way to their locker in a haze, not sure of what to make of what had just happened. It was so strange to see Dex, who had been so terrifying when Twain was younger, get bullied like that. The fact that Dex hadn’t fought back was unsettling to Twain; Dex’s behavior had been so different from the cruelty Twain was used to from him. The more Twain thought about Dex, the more confused they became. 

“He said it happens all the time,” Twain remarked to Hop later that night. “It made me sad. I don’t know.” 

“I wish I’d been there, I would have whooped those stupid basketball players’ butts,” Hop declared, posing heroically in front of their body length mirror in the corner of their bedroom. 

Twain laughed, rolling over onto their stomach from where they lay on Hop’s bed. “I wish you had been there, too, I always feel braver when you’re with me, Hop.” 

“You’re brave, Twain,” Hop insisted, breaking into a run and leaping onto their bed, flopping down next to Twain. “I don’t know that many people who would fight a fish monster by themselves and then go make sure she’s okay, like, fifteen minutes later.” 

“Sometimes I feel like when we were underground was the only time I was brave,” Twain sighed. 

“Well, it’s not true!” Hop flicked Twain on the ear. “Because I don’t know that many people who would willingly stay in school with the bully who made their life miserable either. Not only that, but you’re actually, like, sympathizing with your bully, too. Cowards don’t do that kind of thing.” 

“But why do I care what happens to Dex? I should hate him, I should be glad that he’s getting a taste of his own medicine,” Twain exclaimed. 

“You’re not that kind of person, I guess,” Hop shrugged. “Frankly, I’m relieved that you’re not laughing at his pain. That’s just not you, Twain.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Twain slumped against the mattress, letting their arms hang down over the edge. “I wish I knew what to do about all of this. I’ve tried ignoring him and it just makes me feel worse.” 

“So, stop ignoring him,” Hop suggested, easy as that. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. It seems like he’s dying for you to give him an earful.” 

“But I’m not sure if that’s the right thing to do,” Twain said. 

“You’ll never know until you try,” Hop countered. “There’s only so much thinking you can do about things.” 

“What would I even say?”

“I don’t know,” Hop said. “Maybe don’t start with the whole ‘You threw me down Mt. Ebott and I’ll never forgive you.’ thing, but start somewhere else? Start somewhere small.”

“I wish everyone else was as understanding about this as you,” Twain said, thinking of how angry Laurel and Alex got when they even heard Dex’s name. 

“It’s not easy being this great,” Hop bragged jokingly. “But seriously, I’m here for you, dude. Whatever you decide to do, I’ve got your back.” 

“Thanks, Hop,” Twain smiled. Pushing themself up into a sitting position, Twain held their arms out for a hug. Hop obliged immediately, hugging Twain so hard the both of them toppled off the bed and tumbled to the ground. 

* * *

The next day in history class, Twain was still thinking about what had happened in the hallway with Dex. Twain kept looking over at where Dex sat across the room, trying to catch the other kid’s eye. Dex never returned Twain’s gaze. Class hadn’t begun yet, but Dex was already hunched over his notebook, scribbling something down. Twain thought absently that Dex must really love history, he always had his nose pressed right up to the book like he was concentrating really hard. 

“Hey, Twain, can I talk to you for a second?” Mr. Regis’s voice snapped Twain out of his reverie.

“Uh, yeah,” Twain answered, sitting up straight in their chair and turning their attention towards their teacher.

“You probably remember that project I told you guys about a while back. The one about Ancient Egypt?” Mr. Regis said, crouching down by Twain’s desk so he was eye-to-eye with his student.

Twain had no idea what his teacher was talking about. 

“Right,” Twain nodded.

Mr. Regis smiled, laughing a little at Twain’s feigned surety. “It’s not due for a couple weeks, but you will have to work with a partner.” 

Twain felt the air rush out of their lungs. “Oh.” 

“Now, usually, I’ll assign partners randomly to encourage kids to work with other people than just their friends; but since you just started, I figured you might feel more comfortable picking your own partner,” Mr. Regis whispered so only Twain could hear him. “Is there anyone in particular you think you’d enjoy working with?” 

Twain glanced past the students still getting settled in their seats and immediately found Dex at his seat in the front row.

“Yes,” Twain said, turning their attention back to Mr. Regis. “I know exactly who I want to work with.”

* * *

“You did what!?” Alex and Laurel shouted in unison from different ends of the dinner table, each one’s face set with a different horrified expression. 

“Mr. Regis gave me the option to pick my partner, and I picked Dex,” Twain repeated what he’d just said, his tone even and calm. 

“What on earth possessed you to do something like that!?” Alex exclaimed, nearly toppling over their glass of water with a flying hand gesture.

Twain shrugged. “I wanted to.” 

“Are you out of your mind!?” Laurel spluttered, gripping the lace tablecloth so tightly it looked as if it might rip. 

“No,” Twain replied with a roll of their eyes. “He’s apologized, he’s been nice to me, he’s given me space...I don’t see why I shouldn’t give him a second chance.” 

“Um, uh, maybe because he threw you down a mountain?” Alex said. 

“Thank you for reminding Twain of such a pleasant memory, Alex,” Bell spat, narrowing their eyes at their older sibling. 

“You know, just because someone’s nice to you and apologizes, doesn’t mean you have to forgive them,” Laurel interjected.

“I know, but holding grudges isn’t who I am,” Twain shook their head at Laurel. “And, you know what, after everything we went through underground, I thought you’d be more understanding.”

Laurel didn’t say anything else, but sank back in their chair to sulk, glaring at the untouched plate of food in front of them. 

“Alright, Twain has a point,” Robin spoke at last. Rubbing their hand over the deep scars on their arm, they angled themself so they could address all of their siblings. “If what we went through taught us anything, it’s that people can change and how we treat them can affect that.” 

“I agree,” Hop piped up. “If we don’t give people a chance, how can we tell what they’re really like?” Hop snuck a glance at their mother, who flashed them a smile. “Besides, if things do go wrong, we’ll be there to protect Twain; and if things go right, won’t that be awesome?” 

A quiet descended on the table. Alex had directed their attention to their food, stabbing their fork against their plate with methodical petulance. Laurel still sat sulking, not saying a word until Frisk yanked at their sleeve to get their attention before signing something to them. 

Laurel sighed, slouching further down in their seat until only their glasses were visible above the table’s edge. “Frisk says that they agree with Twain,” Laurel reported with all the charisma of a new student being forced to introduce themself to their class. “For the record, _ I _ still think it’s a bad idea, not that my opinion matters.”

“Well, it seems to me like Twain’s made his mind up with or without our support, so I say we just give it to him.” Bell winked at Twain. “Plus, Blue trusts this Dex kid, so that earns him the benefit of my doubt, at least.” 

“Thanks, you guys,” Twain smiled, turning their attention to Toriel and Ms. Cohen. “So, is it okay if I invite Dex over to work on our project?” 

“You have my permission,” Toriel said. “Maribel?” 

“It’s fine by me,” Ms. Cohen nodded. “I’ve known the Dawsons forever; I even babysat Dex a few times when he was very little.”

“What!?” Hop gave their mother a disbelieving look. “You did not! How come I don’t remember him?” 

“Because you were just a baby yourself, sweetheart,” Ms. Cohen explained patiently.

“I would have remembered,” Hop muttered decidedly. 

Twain looked at Laurel and Alex, both of whom were doing little to conceal their disapproval of Twain’s idea. “Are you two okay with this?”

Alex groaned and Laurel sighed. Then, Alex sighed and Laurel groaned.

“Fine,” Alex and Laurel both said in unison. 

“And you’re going to be nice to Dex when he’s here?” Twain added. 

Alex made a gagging noise, Laurel harmonized with a choking noise.

“You guys,” Robin spoke up. “This is important to Twain.” 

Alex and Laurel gave each other a look, then each let out another sigh. 

“I promise,” Alex said, placing their hand over their heart. “I will not try to fight that little creep.” 

“Thanks, Alex, that’s very reassuring.” Robin rolled their eyes. 

“Laurel?” Twain prompted. 

“I swear,” Laurel said, holding their right hand up in oath. “I will be on my best behavior.” 

“Good,” Twain smiled, sitting back in their chair. “Glad we got that settled.”


	3. Bully Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twain and Dex work on their project. Someone gets bullied on the playground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my senior citizens reading this, do you remember when "Computer Class" was a thing? Do they still have that in elementary schools?

Robin zipped through the house on the morning of Dex’s visit, flitting from room to room to make sure everything was shipshape. Ms. Cohen had gone with Toriel to look at some properties for the school Toriel wanted to open, leaving Robin in charge. Mercifully, Bell and Blue had taken Hop and Frisk roller skating for the day, so the house was at least less crowded than usual. Alex and Laurel, to no one’s surprise, had refused to leave the house. Laurel had taken up their post in the living room, reading a book larger than their head and peering up from it suspiciously any time someone so much as breathed in their direction. Alex, on the other hand, had been stuck on Robin’s heels since breakfast, hellbent on annoying their older sibling to death before Dex even arrived.

“I don’t see why we should go out of our way to be nice to this kid,” Alex hissed for what must have been the hundredth time that morning. Robin and them were descending the staircase in a tense cluster, Alex leaning over Robin’s shoulder to whisper in their ear. 

“Because Twain asked us to, that’s why,” Robin hissed right back. “If you can’t suck it up and put on a good face for them, then you can wait upstairs and pout like the baby you are until Dex leaves.” 

Robin stalked away from Alex in a huff and headed towards the kitchen. Undeterred by Robin’s ultimatum, Alex scurried after them. While Robin began opening and closing random cabinets, Alex slid onto one of the stools at the counter. 

“Admit it, Rob, you don’t want this kid around Twain any more than I do.” 

“It’s not about what we want, we’re doing this for Twain,” Robin said as they took a stack of neatly folded cloth napkins from a drawer. Grabbing the top napkin, Robin shook it loose and began to refold it in the exact same way it had been.

“Ha!” Alex smacked the counter in triumph. “You admit that you don’t-” 

“I didn’t admit anything,” Robin snapped. “Even if I did, which I didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. Like I said, we’re doing this for Twain.” 

Alex opened their mouth to speak, but was cut off before he started, this time by the ring of the doorbell. Before either Robin or Alex could move, Twain bounded down the stairs and made a bolt for the door. 

“You guys, Dex is here!” Twain called, not waiting for anyone’s response before opening the door. Dex stood on the front step with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He pulled his lips back over his braces to give Twain a nervous smile. 

“Hey,” Dex said, giving a sheepish wave.

“Hey. Come on in,” Twain smiled, gesturing for Dex to enter. As Dex stepped into the house, Robin and Alex came walking in oh-so casually from the kitchen. Robin had positioned themself in front of Alex, walking at a slow pace to break the speed of Alex’s determined stride. Every so often, Alex would bump into Robin to try and force them to go faster, and Robin would counter by discreetly jabbing Alex in the ribs. Twain cast one glance at the ridiculous dance his two oldest siblings were doing and sighed. “Dex, these are two of my siblings.” 

Robin took this as their cue to step forward. Leaving Alex stumbling over their newfound freedom of movement, Robin walked up to Dex and shook his hand. 

“Hi, Dex, I’m Robin,” they smiled. “Twain’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you in person, at last.” 

“I-It’s nice to meet you, too,” Dex blushed, looking bewitched as Robin smiled down at him.

Alex gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and Robin shot them a dirty look. 

“You already met Alex, if you remember…” Twain waved Alex forward nervously. 

“Oh, yeah, I remember,” Dex said, not taking his eyes off Alex as the teenager stepped forward. Alex towered over Dex and seemed to hesitate for a long moment before, with apparent great pain, they extended their hand out to Dex. As the two shook hands, Alex even managed a smile. 

“Great to be officially introduced,” Alex bit out, not moving their lips as they spoke. The second they let go of Dex’s hand, Alex sank back behind Robin and resumed their previous sulking. 

“Would you like a snack or something to drink?” Robin asked. 

“N-No. No, I’m fine,” Dex smiled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Thank you for asking though.” 

“Okay, give a shout if you need anything. We’ll let you two get to it,” Robin said, grabbing Alex by the arm and yanking them away from Twain before they had the chance to protest. 

“Well, come on,” Twain waved for Dex to follow, leading him through the house. “I set up a space in the den for us to work.” 

“Are your other siblings here?” Dex asked as he followed Twain. 

“Most of them are out, but Laurel’s here,” Twain said, crossing through the living room. Twain gestured at the corner, where Laurel was seated in an armchair. Laurel held the book in their hands so that it covered their face; but when they heard Twain and Dex come in, they peeked their eyes over the page they were reading.“Laurel, you remember Dex, right?” Twain asked. 

“Hm,” Laurel hummed. 

“Uh, it’s nice to see you again,” Dex tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth twitched around his braces. 

“Right,” Laurel rolled their eyes, then lifted their book so their entire face was hidden again. 

“We’re going to the den,” Twain said. 

“I’ll be here,” Laurel said. 

“Let’s go.” Twain motioned for Dex to keep following him. A cloud of tension had settled in the air. The two of them went all the rest of the way to the den without saying another word. It was only when Twain closed the door behind them did Dex dare open his mouth again. 

“I never knew someone could read a book in a scary way,” Dex said. “Is it weird that I found Laurel more intimidating than both Robin and Alex combined?” 

“Definitely not weird. Laurel can be very intimidating when they want to be,” Twain said, stepping away from the door. 

The den was located at the back of the house. There were a couple of comfy sofas gathered around a TV in one corner, and a desktop computer sat in another. A sturdy table with matching chairs was off to one side, which was where Twain had laid out his school supplies. Showing Dex to the table, Twain sat down and took out their project assignment. 

“Okay, so, let’s go down this list,” Twain shook the paper dramatically in front of him, which made Dex laugh. “We need to pick a topic, which we already did. Next, we need to research the topic and take notes. Then, we need to write a report to turn in to Mr. Regis. And finally, we need to make a powerpoint to present to the whole class. Oh…” Twain faltered at the last item on the list. 

“What’s up?” Dex asked. 

“I don’t know how to make a powerpoint,” Twain admitted. 

“Really?” 

“No, we didn’t exactly have a computer underground and I never learned before I fell down,” Twain said. “I guess you’ll have to teach me how to do it.” 

“Um, I might not be the best person for the job,” Dex said. 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have a computer at my house. Or a TV. My parents think electronics rot your brain,” Dex explained.

“Okay, then,” Twain nodded. “We could tell Mr. Regis we don’t know how.” 

“Ugh, that would be so embarrassing,” Dex groaned. “I bet we’re the only kids in the class who can’t make a powerpoint.” 

Twain sat back in their chair, thinking things over. It wouldn’t have been embarrassing for Twain to go to a teacher and say they couldn’t do something, but this scenario involved more than Twain’s feelings. For some reason, Dex seemed very concerned about admitting that he couldn’t do something. Twain racked their brain for a solution until they suddenly remembered the most obvious one that was sitting in the very same house as them. 

“I know who can help,” Twain said. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” 

* * *

“...and then you can add special transitions between the slides, but it’s not really necessary,” Laurel said, clicking away at the computer screen. After a lot of sighs and rolled eyes, Laurel had agreed to teach Twain and Dex how to make a powerpoint. Once Laurel had sat down at the computer though, it was clear that they were in their element. Laurel had guided Twain and Dex through making a practice powerpoint, explaining each step along the way. Dex and Twain were huddled on either side of Laurel, watching with rapt attention as they navigated the slideshow software with ease. 

“Thank you for helping us, Laurel,” Twain said. 

“No problem,” Laurel said, scrawling something in their notebook and then ripping the page out. “I wrote down the steps, in case you forget them. Now, here-” Laurel exited out of their powerpoint, deleting their unsaved work. Then, they opened a blank slideshow. “You guys try it on your own.” 

Laurel stepped back from the computer, letting Dex and Twain take over. The two younger kids worked at a much slower pace than Laurel, with Twain referencing Laurel’s handwritten instructions every few seconds. Other than that, Twain and Dex were able to make their own powerpoint without Laurel even needing to correct them once. There was one thing that caused Laurel to wrinkle their brow in concern, though, and it had nothing to do with slideshows. Each time Dex went to read something on the computer, he would lean forward so close to the screen that his nose was almost touching the screen. Laurel remembered reading like that when they were younger, so they had a pretty good idea why Dex was doing it, too.

“Do you have glasses?” Laurel asked, straightening their own pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. 

Dex sprang away from the computer as if he’d just realized it was on fire. He looked up at Laurel and vehemently shook his head. “No,” he answered quickly. 

“Well, I think you might need some,” Laurel suggested with a smack of their lips. “That’s how I used to read before I got my glasses.” 

“I don’t need glasses,” Dex insisted.

Laurel held up their hands and shrugged. “I’m just giving you my opinion.” 

“Oh, yeah? Are you some sort of eye doctor?” Dex challenged. 

“Whatever. Suit yourself,” Laurel scoffed. Not uttering another word, Laurel spun on their heel and strode out of the room, leaving Dex and Twain alone. Twain watched Laurel leave with a frown, then turned to look at Dex, who had his lips mashed together tight over his braces.

“Laurel was only trying to be helpful, you know,” Twain said when they were sure Laurel was out of earshot. “You didn’t have to snap at them like that.” 

Dex began clicking at random points on the screen. “They should mind their own business.” 

A snappy comeback made it all the way to his teeth before Twain bit down on it and forced himself to take a deep breath instead. Twain thought about what could have caused such a sudden shift in Dex’s mood. The resentful part of Twain’s memory suggested that perhaps Dex was finally showing his true colors and that he really hadn’t changed all that much. But Twain thought back to when Laurel had first asked if Dex wore glasses and remembered the way Dex had seemed startled by the question.

“Dex, what’s actually bothering you?” Twain asked.

Dex glanced at Twain, but quickly looked away. “Nothing,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping back in his seat. 

“Yeah? I bet that’s not true.” Twain pulled a chair over so they could sit down by Dex. “You can tell me. I promise, I won’t make fun of you.” 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Dex huffed, his breath coming out in a half-formed laugh. “After how I treated you, I think you’re entitled to making fun of me.” 

“Well, I don’t like to make fun of people, so there.” Twain cocked their head to the side and gave Dex a sympathetic look. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.” 

Dex groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. After a moment, Dex splayed his fingers so he could see Twain. “I already have glasses.” 

“Oh!” Twain sat up in surprise. “That’s...good, isn’t it?” 

Dex sighed and dropped his head into his hands, hiding his face completely this time. “I wear them at home, but I take them off when I get to school,” he admitted.

“Why?” Twain asked. 

“Because I don’t want people to make fun of me,” Dex confessed, keeping his face buried in his hands.

“Why do you think they’d make fun of you?” 

“Because they did when I first got my braces.” Dex lifted his face at last, and Twain saw the pain of rejection that was twisted into Dex’s brow. “The only reason they stopped is because Blue caught them doing it and stood up for me.” 

“That sounds like Blue,” Twain nodded, thinking of the time Blue had stood up for them so many years ago.

“I wish I could be more like him, or like you, for that matter,” Dex said. “Back when I was picking on you, it never seemed to bother you.” 

Twain stifled a laugh, making a weird choking noise instead. “Dex, I assure you that getting bullied every day bothered me a lot.” 

“I’m really sorry,” Dex murmured after a pause, his lower lip wobbling.

“I know you are.” Twain reached out and patted Dex on the arm. 

Dex’s expression crumpled at the kind gesture. Dex dropped his head into his hands again and let out a single sob. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry. I ruined your life.” 

“Hey, no, you didn’t,” Twain said softly, standing up so they could put their arm fully around Dex’s shoulders. “I have a great life, Dex, even if I’ve gone through some hard things.” 

“But what I did was so horrible…” Dex shook his head, more sobs racking his back as they struggled through his lungs. “Why did I do that?” 

“Stop.” Twain wrapped both arms around Dex, pulling him into a hug. “Please, stop.” 

Dex went rigid for a split second, but quickly melted into Twain’s embrace, his sobs growing louder as he threw his arms around Twain. 

“Look, you can’t change the past, Dex,” Twain said, patting soothing circles into their former bully’s back. “I don’t know why you did what you did, but obviously you know it was wrong now. And you’re trying to do better, right?” 

Dex nodded, unable to speak around his own crying. 

“That’s the important thing, then,” Twain said. “I forgive you, Dex. Okay? I forgive you.” 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Dex asked, his voice raw. 

“Because I want to,” Twain laughed, pulling away from Dex and sitting back down in their own seat. “Because I believe in second chances.”

Dex let out a loud sniffle, then lifted his head so he could look at Twain. “Why?”

“People make mistakes,” Twain explained. “If someone really wants to try to do better, I’m not going to stop them. Other people have a hard time with letting people who did something wrong try to make up for it, but I...I’m just not like that. I don’t know if that means I’m naive, but it doesn’t actually matter. If I really thought you were evil or something, I’d tell you to get lost; but I don’t think that.” 

Dex smiled, a straggling tear making its way down his cheek. “Thank you, Twain.” 

Twain patted Dex on the back in response, then glanced at the computer screen. “We should really get back to work on this project, huh?” 

“Okay,” Dex nodded. “Let me go get my glasses out of my bag.”

* * *

Monday morning, Dex walked into homeroom wearing his glasses. Twain, who had been chatting with Jane about the third  _ Percy Jackson _ book, which he’d just finished, did a double take when Dex walked in. When the surprise wore off, Twain found himself beaming with pride. Dex smiled back and Twain gave him a thumbs up before he sat down. 

The triumphant moment over, Twain threw a cautionary glance around the room. There were a few kids sniggering to themselves and a couple who were whispering to each other. Twain hoped that no one was talking about Dex behind his back, but knew better than to expect otherwise. 

Later, in the cafeteria, Dex sat at his usual table and Twain sat at his. Although they were on opposite ends of the room, Twain couldn’t stop craning his neck to get a look at what was happening with Dex. One of the kids, the same mean-looking boy who’d been pulling a girl’s hair on Twain’s first day, had snatched Dex’s glasses and put them over his own eyes. The boy made a face and must have said something hilarious, because everyone at the table burst into laughter. Dex was laughing too, but Twain could tell it was forced. 

“Twain, is everything alright?” Jane asked, waving her hand in Twain’s face to get his attention. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Twain said, tearing his gaze away from Dex to look at Jane. “Who’s that kid at Dex’s table? The one everyone thinks is so hilarious?” 

Jane looked over her shoulder at the kid in question, then turned back around with a roll of her eyes. “That’s Zack,” she said, spitting out the name as if it were a bit of rotten food. 

“It looks like he’s teasing Dex about his glasses,” Twain said. 

“It wouldn’t surprise me, Zack teases everyone with glasses. He broke mine one time and my parents had to buy me new ones,” Jane said, adjusting her tortoiseshell frames.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Twain said, glancing over at Zack again. Mercifully, Zack had returned Dex’s glasses unscathed; but judging by the red tips of Dex’s ears, Twain could tell his former bully’s feelings hadn’t been as lucky. 

“Does Zack still bother you?” Twain asked. 

“Not anymore.” Jane shook her head. “My parents called the principal and, I dunno, threatened to sue the school or something if it happened again. Zack got, like, a month’s detention and his parents grounded him, so he doesn’t really bother me anymore. All of that didn’t stop him from being a jerk though.”

Twain nodded, letting go of a slow breath as he sat back in his chair. “Yeah, believe me, some people need a lot of convincing before they stop acting like jerks.” 

“Amen to that,” Jane nodded, then returned to her lunch. 

For the rest of the period, Twain couldn’t focus on anything other than checking in to make sure Dex was okay. The trend persisted into recess, where Twain kept searching across the playground for Dex even when Jane and him were tossing a football back and forth. Zack still appeared to be tormenting Dex, and was now flocked on either side by some of the kids from the hallway a few days ago. The football smacked Twain hard in the gut and they barely noticed, unable to take their eyes off the quickly evolving torment session happening across the playground. 

“Earth to Twain!” Jane called. “What’s up?” 

Twain looked at Jane, then looked back to Dex. Sweat slicked Twain’s palms, his heartbeat hammered in his chest, and blood rushed to his face. Licking his lips, Twain took a deep breath and resolved himself to doing the only thing he could live with, even though it scared the hell out of him. 

“I’ll be right back,” Twain announced, breaking away from Jane and marching over to where Dex was. Jane called something out, but Twain wasn’t listening. Twain couldn’t have listened, even if he wanted to; he couldn’t hear anything over the thundering of his own pulse in his ears. As with waiting for anything you’re dreading, Twain’s trek across the playground lasted less than a minute. Before Twain could think of a single intelligent thing to say, he was only a few steps away from the gaggle of kids surrounding Dex. 

“Hey, Dex,” Twain piped up, trying to sound braver than he felt. Dex looked up in surprise, as did the rest of the kids gathered around him. Zack, whose mouth was quirked in that particular smug way that suggested he had been in the middle of delivering an insult, looked at Twain like he was the most ridiculous thing ever. 

“Aren’t you the Monster Kid?” Zack scoffed. 

“My name is Twain, thanks for asking,” Twain said. “I was talking to Dex.” 

“Twain, I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Dex said, motioning for Twain to go back to the other side of the playground. 

“I just wanted to see if you’d like to come hang out with Jane and I,” Twain said. Looking over his shoulder to find Jane, Twain gave a jump when he saw Jane standing right behind him. 

“You looked like you could use a hand,” Jane whispered. 

“Thank you,” Twain whispered back. 

“Well, if it isn’t the original four eyes,” Zack taunted, much to the delight of his posse. “Dex, maybe you should go with them, you’d fit right in.” 

“I agree,” Twain said. “Dex fits in very well with my friends.”

Dex, who up until that moment had been too stunned to talk, now cleared his throat. Looking from Twain to Zack to all the other kids around him and then back to Twain again, all of the conflict suddenly left his face. Disentangling himself from the crowd around him, Dex went and stood by Twain.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dex smiled.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Twain agreed. Giving Jane and Dex each a pat on the back, Twain began walking away from Zack’s crowd.

“Thanks for doing that,” Dex said, once they were out of earshot. 

“No problem,” Twain said. “You know Jane, right?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” Dex nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“I like your glasses,” Jane said, offering Dex a friendly smile. 

“Oh?” Dex obviously hadn’t been expecting the compliment and fumbled to get a response out. “Th-Thank you. I like yours, too.” 

Together, the three friends headed back to the other side of the playground, where Jane and Twain spent most of their remaining recess time convincing Dex to read the  _ Percy Jackson _ series. By the time the bell rang, Dex had agreed to borrow Jane’s copy of  _ The Lightning Thief _ , and all three of them decided to have a sleepover when they’d all finished the series. 

As Jane went off to music class, Twain and Dex walked together to history class. Dex went in first, sitting in his usual seat at the front of the class. Twain paused in the doorway, thinking over his decision for a brief second before entering the classroom. Without another ounce of hesitation, Twain marched over to the empty desk next to Dex and sat down. Dex, apparently once again too stunned by Twain’s actions to speak, said nothing as Twain settled in next to him. 

Mr. Regis came in holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers fresh from the copier in his other hand. When Mr. Regis saw Twain sitting in the front row, a smile spread across the teacher’s face. 

“Switching up your seat there, Twain?” Mr. Regis asked.

“Yeah, if it’s alright,” Twain said with a nod in Dex’s direction. “I want to sit by my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little fic! Thanks for reading.


End file.
